Prompt#22: Tomorrow

Word Count: 500 of 500 MAX
DAY 22 Prompt: Tomorrow

         Commander Gurelle slammed his fist onto the table sending the small figures atop the large map tumbling. With a mighty sweep of his arm, he sent the pieces scattering across the tent in every direction.

         “Its bloody useless, Captain. They’ve got more infantry plain and simple.”

         Captain Verasié stared at a solitary figurine rolling by his feet. “Sir, may I again remind you we are far better trained than they are. They might have superior numbers but our men can take down four of them to each of us.”

         Gurelle sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Yes, Captain. You’ve been very diligent in reminding me all damned day long.” He looked upon Verasié with pity. “Yes, our men are well trained, fierce and loyal. Yes, their skills are unmatched. But it won’t do a lick of good against that horde.”

         “Sir, I think you do a disservice…”

         Gurelle cut him off. “It won’t be four against one Captain. Come morning, they will smash against us like a wave and rush over us or drive us over the cliffs. Our men can’t fight an enemy that isn’t fighting back. They’ll sacrifice themselves and destroy us with sheer numbers.”

         Verasié looked over at Faullen, his eyes pleading for assistance. The wizard was deep in thought, lost to the conversation. “Damnit, Faullen, are you going to help me or not?”

         The wizard looked up, surprise on his face. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t listening.”

         Verasié threw his hands up in disgust. “Has everyone given up?”

         The wizard shook himself and stood. “Calm yourself, Captain. Hope is not lost yet. There is still the chance the Rogue made it through.”

         Gurelle scoffed at the wizard’s words. “Please, if that little weasel made it across the enemy’s line, she’s long gone.”

         “You underestimate her loyalty, General. She’ll find a way.”

         Captain Verasié stormed out of the tent and into the cold night. He was anxious knowing his men’s survival was dependent on the success of a single person. And an assassin at that.

         He spent the next few hours walking the camp, speaking words of encouragement to the soldiers. “Tomorrow men. Tomorrow we face our enemy for the last time. I cannot say if we will be victorious or not but I promise you I will not stop fighting until the last breath is taken from me. You are my brothers, and I will fight beside you and die for you if need be.”

         He encouraged them to get any sleep they could and to fill their bellies while the opportunity was there. There would be no time for sleep or eating tomorrow.

         Verasié stood at the edge of the encampment, staring across the darkened bogland. He watched the enemy’s campfires flicker in the distance. There are so many. Its like the stars in the sky.

Tomorrow would finally bring an end to this prolonged war. His life would be forever different after tonight.

Never before had Verasié been so terrified of a single day, until tomorrow.